The Fishermen's Son
by MeLaNch0LYdreams
Summary: In which Gokudera pisses off the wrong people and is forced to go into hiding on Namimori Island. The Fishermen's Son can't quiet leave him alone. 8059 AU


The Fishermen's Son

Back in Black

Hayato watched with analytical eyes as the lacquered balls knocked against each other, a sound that was supposed to be aggravating was satisfying to him. The pool table was well maintained, often the sight of shady dealings and was always manicured to look its best. It reflected well on the glistening numbered porcelain balls and soft lint free board.

Until now, that is. Hayato gnawed at the cigarette still in his mouth, teeth crunching down on the filter. A burst of bitter powder exploded in his mouth, but he didn't care. With the exception of his tense shoulders, he looked the very picture of calm and collected. On the inside however, it was a different story.

He stomped over to the game table, sharpening his pole with the blue chalk to the point of brashness. He stormed back to the pool table, the only thing illuminated in the dim light of the otherwise abandoned room.

_Namimori_! He though disgustedly to himself, the tenth was sending him to Namimori! He grumbled to himself as he positioned the pole, once against knocking the abused porcelain ball, now covered in bruises of blue chalk and punctuated with cracks. If he went at in any longer, the ball would start to fall apart before the end of the mock tournament he was having with himself.

He fumed. The only position I belong is at Tenth's side!

_"B-But Gokudera-kun! You need to go into hiding! If they find you they'll-"_

_"-what? Kill me? My job is to protect you! Its 24/7, 365 days a year for the rest of my life."_

_He sneered, slapping a hand to his chest to emphasize his self-worth. He knew Tsuna was right, but he wasn't going to give in easily. In fact, these hitmen weren't even after Tsuna's head, they were after his. It was a classic case of Hayato pissing off the wrong people (again) and they happened to be a little more powerful than he gave them credit for (yeah yeah, what else is new? Tsuna's words, not his.)_

_But Namimori? That was going way too far! He expected to be relocated to London, maybe Vienna. But Japan? What was there for him? Hayato hated the hometown he grew up with Tsuna in with a passion. It was a typical village setting, with the single group of boys ruled the town and everybody else was an outcast. Tsuna wasn't the top dog then as he was now, so the boy had a less then stellar childhood. That only added to his confusion._

_"You're a third Japanese, it'll be goo-"_

_He snorted. "I'm a polyglot. It doesn't really matter where you send me."_

_'Even a Gulag would be better,' he thought darkly to himself._

_"You're exaggerating again! We have Operatives there to watch over you, but for their safety and yours, you won't know about them."_

_"How is that supposed to be safe?!"_

_"Okay...theirs. But no arguments! I'm only doing what's best for you!"_

_Hayato sighed, he knew very well what the Vongola were capable of._

He never aimed to shoot.

He knew the mathematical angles in his head, he had the agility to follow through, but it just wasn't in his nature to actually care enough to bother. Hayato never aimed to shoot, so when he did it was an accident. He remembered how happy he was when the tenth gave them (him) a game room, and seeing almost the exact table from his childhood. He didn't even care for the game, always playing by himself and listening to the knocking of the porcelain balls. Whenever he felt agitated, he turned to the familiar sport in comfort, not caring for the missed shots when he could have pocketed them, but he didn't bother. Simply speaking, he sucked at pool.

There was probably some grandiose metaphor that the game was supposed to implicate, but he indulged in cold, hard, scientific fact, not Romanticism.

A small part of him whispered, that maybe pool wasn't the only thing he sucked at, it was forming bonds. He paused and cursed himself for thinking that, sinking deeper into regret. Come to think of it, he heard Namimori had wonderful weather this time of the year.

The cool breeze tousled his windswept hair as he stepped off the boat (yatch customary of Vongola Enterprises) and proceeded to take his sunglasses off to greet the border police.

A uniform clad woman stared at him.

"What?" He said, sounding maybe more rude than was socially acceptable to a figure of authority. Mafia or not, he never was a fan of the law. Something about 'smuggling firearms and explosives' was of course questionable behaviour at the age of fourteen. So what if he was paranoid when it came to self defence, he was better safe than sorry wasn't he?

"Um, may you be Gokudera Hayato-sama?"

He noted the honorific with confusion, as he pulled on his cigarette. An operative? With the police? Wasn't that a bit dangerous? Oh well, he supposed that sometimes loyalty could be disguised as something as simple as being paid under the table.

"Oh? And why would that be?"

"Well, um, sir...you're wearing a suit and I've been given orders to permit a 'suspicious looking half-Italian beyond borders.'"

His eye twitched at this, but he simply nodded to the intimidated woman. He had a feeling Reborn had something to do with that very 'detailed' description.

The salt of the Pacific Ocean was present in the air, and Hayato inhaled it deeply, feeling the ground harden beneath him. The half garbled shouts of Japanese fishermen and far off ringing of a school bell, it sure felt like Namimori. He hated it, but he was home.

Sawada Nana welcomed him into her home with open arms. She felt just as warm as Hayato remembered, and twice as kind.

"I was thinking of making curry for dinner. Would that be alright?"

Tsuna looked even more like her now then he did growing up, and nodded his admission to her. She still had no idea what they did, assuming they had been rounded up into some big multi-million dollar corporation. He could live with that.

"You can have Tsuna's room, your clothes were shipped in last night and I've already packed them away." She gestured upstairs, smile still in place. "So, is this trip for business or pleasure?"

"A little bit of both, m'am."

_"Awww!_ Polite as always, I could never imagine the brash boy my son ranted about all those years ago." To his horror, she actually reached out and pinched his cheek.

"You've grown quite handsome in your time away, I'm sure the ladies have been throwing themselves at you!"

He smiled wryly at her "It's exactly as you say-" and were then usually put off by his bad attitude."-hey would it be alright if I went err...sightseeing?"

"Don't even need to ask my permission, go ahead!"

"Thank you m'am."

He sighed in relief when he left the house, but now the sun was setting and he loosened his tie, preparing for a long walk after the long,uneventful boat ride. Wandering was something that Tsuna would most likely forbid, but he was bored! How long was he supposed to stay in Namimori? If he was going to be here for a while, he may as well make the most of it.

The sun dipped into the horizon but Hayato kept to the shadows. Night was when Hayato felt most comfortable, his vigilante training always prepared him for possible danger, and the freedom to start a fight. When it was this late, the worry for civilian harm almost diminished and it was only then did he feel his most uninhibited, away from the prying eyes of the public.

When he was younger, he was accosted for being a delinquent, but it suited him well despite the fact he hadn't picked a single fight then. Reputation was what made a strong mafioso, if it wasn't strength or intellect.

The streetlights flickered on, the sky a pretty shade that he could only describe as twilight. In reality, he knew it was just gasses in the atmosphere that amassed in the sky, but it was beautiful no less. He noted that the sun was still out, but it cast an almost orange and red glow on the water. The waves sparkled like diamonds and Hayato suddenly ached to return to the dock from that morning, despite the tingle of fear that crawled up his spine.

A trash can fell behind him, along with a muffled curse. He turned on his heel and put a hand on the inside of his jacket, ready to extract his handgun when he saw who it was.

"Hahi!_ Is that a gun?_ I'm sorry! I was just following you around and-Hayato?"

He put the gun back in its holster, a little dazed at the short girl sprawled on the ground, freckled and frazzled. "Haru?"

She blinked in puzzlement before bursting out into a sunny grin. It was one of the things he liked most about Haru, and really...the only thing.

She was a tad annoying.

_"Who-What-Where-When-Why-How?"_

"Uhh..."

"Ah, but that is the least of our worries. What brings you to this neck of the woods? I heard you were back in Italy."

So Haru wasn't an Operative, it turns out it really was for their safety.

"Oh, I'm on Vacation."

She whistled in appreciation as she took in his attire. "Nice suit, looking sharp! The gun's a bit questionable but all things considered you're dressed to kill."

He blushed at her flattery, not knowing whether to take that last statement figuratively or not.

"I see you've been eyeing the dock for a while now. Come to think of it, I want you to meet a friend! He'd our age but he didn't really go to school with us." She jumped to her feet, suddenly excited.

He gave her a look but followed regardless, making small talk.

"Graduation was a while back, what are you still doing here?"

She hummed to herself. "I'm visiting my parents for the holiday, I go to university in Tokyo, though."

His eyes bugged out in disbelief. "Todai? THE Todai?"

She shrugged. "Just a double major in some Medical Sciences, but its all useless while I'm still an undergrad."

He shook his head in disbelief, the best people always kept quiet about their achievements it seems.

"Ah! We're here. Yamamoto! Come out!"

They were at the dock and he glanced around passively, noting the shack tucked into the dense woods casually titled _Takesush_i. It wasn't so much generic as it was uncreative. He glanced at the shore and did a double take.

Rock music seemed to play in the mafioso's mind as a strong body of muscle rose from the water's depths, the droplets glistened like those very diamonds he saw glistening in the horizon, as the creature of Asian descent shook himself dry. When the man saw the two of them his lips quirked into a smile and his dark lashes quivered until they came half-mast. He ran a hand through his short cropped dark hair, and pulled himself to the deck, dripping from the head down.

"He tends to have that effect on people." Haru whispered to him, noting his pale shock from witnessing Yamamoto."

"Haru!" his smile grew seeing his old friend. Hayato shivered, the man hadn't reached for a towel! It should have been freezing! Yamamoto raised a brow in question but still kept a polite smile. "Who might this be?"

"This is Gokudera. He went to high school with me, and he's here on vacation."

"Nice to meet you, Gokudera-san."

Generic was going to be the word to describe Yamamoto.

"I'm Yamamoto Takeshi, any friend of Haru's is a friend of mine."

Boring name. Boring Face. Boring job-seriously, a Japanese sushi house? How much more stereotypical could this guy get? He was half expecting the guy to be a Shinto priest and own a shrine in his backyard and they haven't even had an actual conversation yet!

"Same here," deciding that 'yet' was too strong a word. "You know any good places to eat?"

Yamamoto's smile grew fox like. "I know a few."

Hayato instantly forgot all about Nana Sawada's famed curry.

_A/N: That song Yamamato was thinking of? Back in Black by AC/DC :)_


End file.
